


Take a Picture, It'll Last Longer

by orphan_account



Series: Ouroboros [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: "Photographs" Eh? He asked him knowingly., 1930s, Anal Fingering, Autofellatio, Banter, Dirty Talk, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Photography, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Rimming, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 14:06:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2112780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Bucky said: 'Hey, I just take photos of beautiful things.' </i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Steve felt his cheeks flush pink. 'Shut up,' he replied.</i></p><p> </p><p>Or: Bucky starts taking photos of damn near everything, but mostly Steve; possibly with an ulterior motive. Sequel to <i>Captain Ouroboros</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take a Picture, It'll Last Longer

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, It's more weird, oddly fluffy porn!
> 
> Quite a few people wanted a sequel to the last one, but this probably isn't quite what anyone had in mind. I think it was Stephen King who once said that writing a story is less about building something up, and more about carefully dusting away layers to find what is hidden underneath, like an archeologist. Or something like that, anyway. So, um, that's my excuse. This was what I found. I hope it's okay!

The sun came in the window like marigold, and Steve sneezed not for the first time that day. Tilting his head back on the pile of pillows that Bucky had set up on the couch for him, he pressed the old handkerchief to his nose and sniffed, eyes watering. His throat burned whenever he swallowed, and the sensation made him cough, the taste of phlegm hitting his palate. 

Bucky was sitting at the other end of the sofa, letting Steve warm his toes under his thigh. He looked much more like the sunny day, his dark hair catching the gold in the light and his cheeks warm and flushed from the heat. He was wearing a t-shirt under his suspenders, sweat prickling lightly on the nape of his neck. 

He was occupied with changing the film on his Baby Brownie camera, and Steve was starting to feel a little jealous of the little Kodak which had been occupying so much of his friend's attention the past week or so. 

Steve sneezed again. 

'How you doin' there?' Bucky asked, sympathetic, but not looking up from his task. 

'Ugh,' Steve said, dropping the handkerchief away from his face. He felt awful, but it wasn't the bad sort of awful. Steve knew what real awful felt like, and this was on the low end. He hadn't missed a day of work yet, and he'd probably go into the bookstore tomorrow, even if he was sniffling on everything. And at least today was Sunday, so he didn't have to worry about it right now. 

Bucky clicked the new roll of film into place, and closed the hatch. He flicked up the finder and grinned. 'Need anything?' he asked, even as he peered through the top of the camera, lining up shots of nothing. Steve rolled his eyes. 

That camera hadn't left Bucky's side for _days_. Technically speaking, it wasn't even his camera, even if he had bought it. He had purchased it for a dollar about a year ago as a birthday present for Steve, one that they had gotten a fair bit of happy use out of during a weekend trip to Coney Island, but hadn't really touched much since due to the cost of frequently purchasing film. 

Apparently with both of them in steady jobs, Bucky had decided the price of film was an acceptable expense, because he'd been filling up roll after roll of the stuff with blurry, poorly framed photographs. 

''M fine,' Steve answered, his voice coming out nasally and blocked up. 

Bucky glanced over, and made a disapproving sound. 'Haven't finished your stew yet, pal,' he chided, and Steve looked down at the bowl balanced precariously in his lap. 

'I'm getting there,' he replied, although in truth he'd almost forgotten about it entirely. He didn't have that much of an appetite. But still, he picked up the spoon and lifted it to his mouth, at least while Bucky's eyes lingered on him, watching. When he swallowed, Bucky nodded, but nudged an elbow into Steve's knee anyway. 

'Another mouthful,' he urged, and Steve picked up the spoon again, grumbling. It went down his throat like sandpaper. 

He held the bowl out towards Bucky. 'That's all I can do right now,' he said, and he must have sounded pathetic enough for Bucky to take pity on him, because he put down the camera on the cushion beside him, took the stew from Steve's outstretched hands and stood up. 

'You gotta finish it later,' Bucky warned as he wandered over to the kitchen bench, covering the bowl with a plate. 

Steve was watching the way the sunlight was playing on their ceiling, turning the old tobacco stains from the last tenants (and from Bucky's half-kicked habit) into swirling patterns of warm dappled light, almost like sunlit clouds. 

Bucky flopped back down onto the couch, bare toes colliding with Steve's shin. 'Hey, hear me, punk?'

'Uh huh,' Steve pinched out, even as another sneeze started to tickle at his sinuses. He squeezed his eyes shut. 'I'll have it for di- _dinn- di_ -' 

He sneezed, bringing the handkerchief to his face just in time. 

'Dinner,' he finished pointedly, and blinked his leaking eyes open. 

Bucky had picked up the Baby Brownie again, and was pointing it directly at Steve, winking through the viewfinder. 'Smile,' he said teasingly, and Steve barely managed to cover his face with his hands before the camera was firing off, snapping loudly. 

Steve peeked through his fingers. ' _Don't_ , Buck,' he pleaded. But his friend was already rolling the film on, scowling a little. 

'Aw, you wasted a shot, buddy,' he said. 'C'mon, drop your hands down.'

'No.' Steve pressed his hands tighter against his eyes, rubbing them. They were itching and red already from the cold, and he was only aggravating them further, really. 'Don't take pictures of me.'

'Nah, just for my private collection,' Bucky laughed, and Steve felt him tugging at his wrist, prying his hand away from his face. 'You look great, jeez, just let me take a photo.'

Steve raised an eyebrow, still keeping his hand that had not been kidnapped by Bucky hovering in front of his face. 'Don't be stupid,' he groused. 'I look terrible, okay?'

Apparently it wasn't okay, because Bucky was getting an annoyingly playful and determined look on his face, and was shifting up onto his knees. He twisted around to climb up over Steve's reclined body, which sunk deeper into the cushion stack as he tried to wriggle away – not that there was anywhere to escape to. 

'Shove off,' protested Steve, even as Bucky bit his tongue purposefully and maneuvered his body to hover over him, using the hand that wasn't holding the camera to pin both of Steve's narrow wrists over his head. Nose starting to leak, Steve had to tilt his head right back to stop it from dripping too much. 'I'm serious!' 

But Bucky was laughing, still playing, and even Steve couldn't stop a slight chuckle from coming out as the camera came back up. The face Bucky was pulling was probably what he imagined a visionary artist would look like as he lined up his shot. His tongue was poking out of his mouth, one eye was scrunched up, and he was grinning broadly. His palm was sweaty from the heat against the skin of Steve's pinned wrists. 

'Hold _still_ , Christ.' Bucky's voice was breathless from laughing. 'You'll make the picture blurry.'

Steve only wriggled more, shaking his head from side from side. His nose was running in earnest now, and he was having to sniff deeply even as he tried not to laugh along with Bucky's antics. His playful moods tended to be about as contagious as Steve's colds. 

'Don't,' Steve begged, but it came out through stuffed up giggles. 'Please don't photograph me.'

'What's the matter?' Finger hovering over the button of the camera, Bucky quirked an eyebrow. 'Thought you liked being on film?'

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, they both froze. Steve had the immediate impression that Bucky hadn't meant to bring _that_ up, but now that the words were out there, they hung in the air between them like a gun shot. 

They didn't talk about it. They hadn't talked about it for _weeks_ , not since that night that Bucky had come home from the Stag Night and they had –

Well, that was the point. They didn't talk about it. 

The sudden silence was broken when Bucky's finger pressed down, and the shutter on the camera broke through the quiet. The Baby Brownie whirred a little as it took the photo, and Steve couldn't help but think that Bucky had gotten exactly what he wanted. Steve was frozen perfectly still. 

'Shit,' Bucky suddenly stammered, dropping the little camera. It hit the couch cushions, then tumbled softly to the rug on the floor with a muted _clunk_. 'Shit, I didn't mean to-'

He was still pinning Steve's wrists above his head, pressing them into the cushions. Suddenly aware of their bodies, Steve could feel the heat of Bucky's leg nudged between his own, the way his other knee was holding him in place on the couch. 

'Buck?' Steve ventured, unsure what to say. He really needed to blow his nose, but just as he began to form words to say as much, he was surprised by sudden warmth as Bucky's lips pressed against his. 

It was out of nowhere, and from the force and lack of finesse to the kiss, Steve suspected that Bucky had shocked himself just as much as had Steve. But he didn't pull away. Instead, his mouth just softened, his lips parted, and then he groaned, deep and long, and pressed himself bodily against Steve. 

The kiss lasted only a few seconds before Steve managed to break out of his frozen stupor enough to break away, tugging his hands out of Bucky's now slack grip to push at his firm chest. 

'What the hell?' Steve snapped, and something came back to Bucky's eyes – Steve could see reality crashing into his expression. 

'Shit, Steve, sorry, I--' The couch shifted as Bucky clambered backwards, backing himself into the other end of the couch, knees up between them like a barrier.

Steve sat up, feeling around for his handkerchief, and wiped his nose roughly. He stared at Bucky, who's eyes were open and startled. Nearly terrified. 'The hell is wrong with you?' 

'No, I didn't,' Bucky started, a slightly stammered non sequitur, before his face closed off. Something changed in his eyes, like the flash of the camera shutter, and then they were hard. 'Nothing is _wrong_ with me,' he spat, surprising Steve with how suddenly angry he was. The sun was still lighting the room with golden beams, light and happy, and it seemed wrong all of a sudden, like a cloud should have passed over to match the shift in mood. 'You're the one who--'

He stopped himself mid sentence, but it only took a second for Steve to pick up the implication. ' _You're the one who started this_.' He was the one who had done that stupid film, who had told Bucky that he thought about him watching when he got himself off. He was the one who had lit the fuse; the fuse that had been slowly burning down these past weeks while they both stubbornly ignored it. 

Steve swallowed, his hankie still hiding most of his face. He blew his nose. 'You'll catch my cold now, idiot,' he said, slightly muffled. Bucky didn't respond. 

The moment hung in the air as the light shifted, hitting the mirror on their far wall and making them both squint against the glare. Slowly, Bucky lifted his hand up to run his fingers through his hair, pushing it back off his face. 

'I'll catch your cold,' he repeated, a sharp edge to his tone, but it was nothing like the fire from a second ago. More like disbelief. 

Steve shrugged, and his body shook with the force of a cough, his chest burning. 'How you gonna,' he started, before he had to hunch over to cough for several long moments into the crook of his arm, his eyes watering as the wheezing tore through his body. Finally, it subsided, and Bucky was looking at him more with concern than anything else. Steve rasped out, 'How you gonna afford to buy more film if you have to take time off at the docks, huh?' 

The corner of Bucky's lip twitched up. 'You always look out for me, don't you, Rogers?'

'Course I do,' Steve said, balling up his dirty hankie in his hand and shoving it under the pillow as he rolled over a little to lie down. 'Have to, don't I? You'll never look out for yourself.'

'Hey, that's my line,' Bucky replied, a little warily, and hesitated for a moment that hovered in the air like an unanswered question, before leaning over to press another soft kiss to Steve's cheek. Steve didn't swat him away, just felt the soft touch of Bucky's cracked lips against his slightly sick-stale skin, and smiled into the pillows piled up beneath him.

*

Bucky woke up after Steve the next day, dragging himself out of bed and rubbing at tired eyes as he wandered into the bathroom. Steve sat at the kitchen table and dipped his toast into the yolk of his soft-boiled eggs as he listened to his friend turn on the tap in the sink, run the water for a few seconds, and then sneeze. Loudly. 

Coming out into the living room dressed for work down at the docks, Bucky pointed at Steve as he wandered past him into the kitchen. 'Don't say a goddamn word,' he warned, voice blocked up and nasally, before sneezing again as he opened the pantry. 

Steve smirked into his eggs. The camera was sitting on the table, so he picked it up and pointed it at Bucky, who was pouring hot water into his instant coffee. The sun was caught on the window, heating up the glass but still casting a bronze glow that made the gray shadows linger in the room.

'Aw, don't,' Bucky pouted, rubbing at his slightly swollen, bloodshot eyes. 

Steve took the photo anyway. 

*

Sometimes Bucky would finish work at the docks a few hours early, when the day had been steady enough that he'd worked his share before four, or when the boats were delayed and slow and the machines were broken and everything was by hand. On these days, his back would ache and the calluses on his hands would burst and bleed onto the crates of sweet smelling fruits and sting in the salty air. Bucky insisted it always felt like it was more worthwhile just to leave early, regardless of the resulting lightness to his pockets. 

He would usually regret it the next day, when money seemed more pressing; but when he could leave early, he would always meet Steve at the dusty old bookstore he worked in at exactly ten to five, to walk him home. 

This particular evening, Steve heard Bucky before he saw him. Or rather, he heard the sound of the camera shuttering, and his head whipped around over his shoulder to see his friend grinning and leaning on the counter, Kodak in hand. Steve's arms were stretched up over his head, pushing a book back into place on one of the upper shelves, one knee bent for balance on the top rung of his step ladder. 

'Film ain't cheap, Buck,' Steve laughed, climbing down till both feet were on the dust etched floor. He wiped his nose on his sleeve distractedly. 'You can't just take pictures of damn near everything.' 

'Think Carolyn will let you knock off five minutes early?' Bucky asked, ignoring him as he rolled the film on. 'Dinner at the automat, maybe.' 

'You going to take pictures of your creamed spinach?' 

There was no one in the store, except Carolyn, and Carolyn was eighty-two and mostly deaf, so Bucky said: 'Hey, I just take photos of beautiful things.' 

Steve felt his cheeks flush pink. 'Shut up,' he replied. 

*

It was a few days later when Steve came home from the grocers to find Bucky sprawled out on the sofa, shirtless and asleep. It was late afternoon, and Steve's shirt was sticking to his back with prickling sweat from the warmth outside. The room was rose colored, and Bucky's skin was like caramel, bronzed from working out in the sun all day. 

Steve's mouth was almost watering. In the stairwell, he had been thinking about how long it was going to take to put together dinner and whether he'd have time to get some sketching done first, but once his eyes fell on Bucky, and the way one arm was stretched up over his head, while the other hand was resting on his stomach, just brushing the waistband of his trousers, all he wanted to do was, well. 

Steve dropped the groceries on the kitchen bench and wandered over to the sofa, climbing on so that he was straddling Bucky's hips, hovering there. 

Slowly, Bucky's eyes blinked open. 'Uh, hello,' he said, groggily. The corner of his lips twitched, a flash of canines. 

'Work got you beat?' Steve asked. He was slow and cautious, watching Bucky carefully as he trailed his slim fingers up the shape of Bucky's abdomen, tracing over course hairs and into the dip of his belly button. 

Bucky licked his lips and looked down. 'Exhausting, pal,' he murmured. 'Kinda waking up now though.'

Steve grinned, and glanced over at the window. The curtains were wide open, and anyone looking in from the building opposite would be able to see them. Whatever they were doing. 

Bucky followed the direction of his gaze. 'You wanna close them?'

'No.'

The t-shirt that Bucky had worn to work was lying rumped on the floor next to the couch, the little Baby Brownie perched on top of it. Steve hadn't noticed, before, but now he saw the way Bucky's eyes flicked to the camera, and he felt his heart start to speed up. 

'You wanna put on a show?' Bucky asked. 

No one would _really_ see, Steve knew that. The apartments opposite were over the street, so you'd have to be at the window and really looking to be able to see with any clarity what was going on in here. But it didn't matter. It was the thrill that was the point. And even then, that didn't matter. 

It was Bucky that was the point. 

'I'll put on a show for you,' he answered. It was clearly what Bucky wanted to hear, because the drowsiness that lingered in his eyes was practically swallowed by heat. 

'Yeah, okay,' he said, dropping his hand off the edge of the sofa to feel about for the camera. His fingers brushed over air and curled on nothing, just barely millimeters away from the Kodak, because his gaze was locked on Steve's, focused. 

'Shit, Buck, the camera?'

'You don't wanna?'

Steve leaned forward, guiding Bucky's hand towards the device and helped him pick it up. He pushed it hard into his hands, even though it was already there, nodding. Words were like sticky toffee in his throat, sweet and stuck there. He licked his lips. 

'Alright, you gotta be good though, yeah Steve? You gotta do as I say.'

Steve snorted, his fingers going back to trailing over Bucky's warm skin. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over the nub of Bucky's nipple, feeling it raise up to meet the touch, and watched the way Bucky's lip disappeared behind his teeth. 'Why's that then?'

'You think shows don't have directors?' Bucky asked, and it was a stupid question, because Steve would know better. 'This is my visionary project, alright? My magnum opus. And I ain't gonna have it ruined by some bossy model who won't do as he's told, got it?'

'God, you're dumb,' breathed Steve, but they both understood it to be agreement. 

'Unbutton the shirt,' Bucky ordered. 

Steve did, reaching immediately for the top button. His tie was still around his throat, but he just loosened it after glancing at Bucky and getting a small shake of the head. He slid the first button, then the second, out of its hole. 

'Okay, stop, hold it there,' said Bucky, and Steve paused, his fingers frozen on the knot of his tie, ready to shift it further down. The camera came up, snapping with the sound of the shutter, and Steve looked past the lens into Bucky's clear, warm eyes. 'Yeah, that's good, Stevie.'

Bucky rolled the camera film on with his thumb, and nodded at Steve. 'The rest.'

Steve unbuttoned the shirt and undid the tie, and the next photo was taken when it hung loose down the open lapels of his shirt. Steve flushed as the camera shuttered again, taking in the slim line of his semi-bare torso. It felt weird, to be so exposed, to have Bucky chronicling this slow undressing. It wasn't like Steve was much to look at: his rib bones were probably all deep shadows on the film, the hollow of his stomach probably stark and shaded. 

But Bucky was looking at him and rolling on the film with his eyes nearly blacked out as his pupils dilated, and Steve could feel the hard press of his friend's erection under him. He swallowed, closing his eyes as he clenched and rocked his hips just slightly, just to see if he could feel Bucky twitch underneath him. 

'Fuck,' Bucky gasped, one hand coming out to grip Steve's waist, under his open shirt. His forefinger brushed over the bumps of his ribs. 'C'mere, come down here 'n kiss me. Take that off.'

'You take it off.'

'Remember the bit about doing what I say?' Bucky teased, but his hand on Steve's side slid up to help him shuck off the shirt and tie. 

Steve quirked his lips. 'You're lazy.'

'I'm _tired_.'

The skin on the upper half of Steve's body was bare now, but he wasn't cold. The sunlight was warming on the glass of their windows and warming the room like a furnace; had been all day. 'Kiss you?' he asked, glancing at the camera. Bucky was holding it ready, finger on the button. 

'Kiss me.'

Steve leaned down, the notches of his spine rising up through the curve of his back, little bumps under his pale skin. He could taste Bucky's lips this time. Last time, all he'd been able to taste was phlegm and illness. Bucky tasted like salted air and something sweet, and the skin of his lips was just a little cracked. 

He kissed like he was distracted, barely moving, an Steve wondered why until he heard the camera go off again, and glanced to the side – it was held at arms length, pointed towards the two of them. The shot would be extremely poorly framed; probably mostly the shape of Bucky's upper arm, and just an odd crowding of their mouth's pressed loosely together, noses bumping, and the shape of Steve's bony shoulders. 

He dropped his head to Bucky's shoulder, laughing. 'You can't get these developed,' he said, his face feeling hot from embarrassment. 

'Well, obviously.' Bucky nudged him with his jaw, tilting his head sideways. 'Up,' he ordered, and Steve felt lips brush his temple brusquely. 'Kiss me proper, before you kiss the tonsil-tickler.'

Steve's shoulders trembled with laughter, but he sat up a little, looking down into Bucky's face. 'You're a real charmer,' he said, and Bucky just grinned, propping the camera on the couch cushion while he took Steve's face between his hands and pulled him down for a real kiss. 

Steve couldn't help but groan. It was their first kiss where they were both really participating, and hell, it was one of Steve's first kisses period, if he was honest. It didn't matter; Bucky didn't seem to mind, just guiding Steve's movements carefully, darting out his tongue to brush over the swell of Steve's upper lip, hinting. 

'Mm, open,' Bucky murmured against his mouth, slowly teasing Steve's lips to part and slipping tongue into his mouth. Steve gasped as Bucky's tongue massaged against his own, and he felt Bucky's fingers tighten on the shape of his neck, holding him close. After a long moment, Bucky pulled back. 'Good?'

'Uh huh,' Steve answered, the sounds mostly panted against the corner of Bucky's lips, which were stretched into a smile. Slight stubble scratched at Steve's cheek, but that was okay. He could feel his cock aching in his trousers. 

'Sit up,' Bucky said, and Steve did so, running a hand through his hair to pull it off his face. Bucky was already picking up the camera again, snapping another photo, and Steve just shook his head indulgently. 'What's most comfortable?'

'What?'

'For sucking yourself off,' Bucky clarified, and Steve felt something clench inside him. His stomach dipped, twisting in a mix of anticipation and pleasant unease. 

'I...' Steve swallowed. 'On my back, is, uh, easier.'

'Yeah, okay, do it like that.'

Steve sucked in a breath. He could feel his face heating, and ducked his eyes away from meeting Bucky's gaze. It was one thing to have Bucky see him on camera, and to watch him in person from other bed, rubbing one out under his briefs – it was another thing to fold himself in half right in front of him, fully exposed and vulnerable. His cock twitched at the thought, heart thudding in his throat, 'Where?'

'Can you do it here?' Bucky asked, and Steve looked at the couch, biting the corner of his lip. He nodded. 

'Don't laugh at me,' he replied, and Bucky flashed him a confused grin. Steve just shrugged and reached his hands down to unbuckle his belt, saying: 'You'll see.'

Standing up, Steve climbed out of his trousers, bending over and pushing them down past his ankles. He glanced up at Bucky as he thumbed at the waistband of his briefs, hesitant for a moment. He had undressed in front of Bucky plenty of times, countless times. But this felt different. It _was_ different. His erection was straining, and Bucky was now just sprawled out on his side on the sofa, watching him intently, eyes tracing over every sharp, bony inch of Steve's frail body. The camera was in his hands, lens pointed directly at Steve, and fingers hovering over the button. 

Self consciously, Steve slipped the elastic of his underwear over the hard curve of his cock, so that the flushed head peeked out over the band. Eyes dark, Bucky took another photo. 

'Shit, Steve, you're a fuckin' tease,' he muttered, but it was all praise. 

Steve just shook his head and quickly pushed his briefs down past his ankles so that he was naked. Bucky was palming himself through his pants with his free hand, slow and lazy, and Steve couldn't help but think it looked almost seedy. Quickly, he glanced over his shoulder at the window, half-expecting to see a window cleaner on some rigging or something, staring in, slack jawed and appalled. 

No one was there, of course, just the glint of fading, late evening sunlight on the dusted glass. 

'Okay, Buck, you gotta sit up,' Steve said, turning back around, his hand coming up to scratch at his neck – he wasn't sure what to do with his hands right then. He felt the modest itch to cover himself, but that was part of the appeal, feeling exposed and on display. He wanted to touch himself, but this show was for Bucky, and Bucky wanted him to suck himself, so suck himself he would. 'Uh, like, maybe back to the armrest? If you want...'

'If I want what?'

'A good angle for photos.'

'Hey,' Bucky chided, but he was sitting up as Steve told him to. 'Who's the director here, huh?'

Steve rolled his eyes. 'Sorry for getting in the way of your artistic integrity,' he muttered, as Bucky repositioned and got comfortable, momentarily looking away from Steve to check that he'd rolled the film on in the camera. 

'Quite alright,' Bucky grinned. 'I suppose this is a collaborative effort, really.'

Climbing up onto the couch cushion, facing away from Bucky, Steve chuckled. 'Okay, this is the bit where you gotta not laugh, 'kay?' he reminded his friend, and glanced over his shoulder as Bucky quirked an eyebrow. 'And no photos for a bit.'

'Uh, sure,' answered Bucky, and slowly, Steve lowered himself backward so that his head was resting in his lap. He could feel Bucky's erection straining through his trousers, pressing up near his cheek, and he shuffled around a bit to plant the flats of his feet against the arm of the couch.

He looked up into Bucky's face, seeing his friend smiling down at him in amusement and affection. 'Alright,' he breathed out, feeling fingers brushing gently over the hair behind his ear. 'One, two, and... three.'

With effort, Steve hitched his legs up into the air, bringing his hips up so that his cock hung over his own lips, heavy and close. He nearly kicked Bucky in the face, and his friend immediately dodged his head out of the way and laughed. 

'Hey!' Steve huffed, his breaths coming a little short from the quick burst of exertion and the compressed positioning of his lungs. But Bucky was still laughing, and Steve could feel the camera tumble down beside him, lodging between his side and the back of the sofa, and Bucky's hands coming up to catch Steve's ankles. 

'I didn't expect to get a punt in the face!' Bucky managed between bursts of amusement. Steve's feet were about level with his friend's shoulders, and looking up and back past his own cock and pale thighs, Steve could see Bucky moving to press a soft kiss to the bone of Steve's ankle, still snickering. 

But soon, the laughter quietened, and Bucky was just lazily kissing at the skin of Steve's feet and calves, looking down at him. Steve could feel the gaze hot on him, and he heard Bucky breath out a soft, ' _Christ_ ,' as he took in all of Steve's new position. 

Lips parting, Steve strained his neck back as far as he could, trying to get a good look at Bucky's face even as his own erection bumped against his lips. Bucky's eyes were tracking all over his body, but Steve could see him fixating on Steve's exposed anus. Precum leaked from his cock onto his tongue, and Steve could feel his hole clench and tighten under his friend's gaze. 

Seemingly hesitant, Bucky slowly let go of one of Steve's ankles, sliding his hand slowly up his hand and calf until he could squeeze the swell of Steve's ass, and suddenly, Steve felt the brush of one of Bucky's fingertips over his opening. 

'Oh,' he gasped, as Bucky just swirled his finger dryly over the hole. He could feel the little ring of muscle twitching, almost gripping at the pad of Bucky's finger. 

'Holy shit,' Bucky just murmured, reverently, and pressed another wet, open mouthed kiss to Steve's ankle. 'Christ, you're a goddamn masterpiece, Stevie.'

Steve groaned at that, unable to resist closing his lips around the head of his erection. Wriggling just a little bit, he tried to nuzzle at the shape of Bucky's hard-on next to his face, and was rewarded with a choked out groan, and the feeling of his cock twitching through layers of fabric. 

'Need the camera,' Bucky panted out, and Steve patted around sightlessly next to him until his hand closed on the device, lifting it up for Bucky to take. Regretfully, Bucky's finger pulled away from Steve's hole, and he took the camera in hand. 'Suck,' he directed. 

Obediently, Steve took as much of his cock in his mouth as he could, moaning at the taste of precum on his tongue, and heard the shutter over him, and Bucky rolling on the film. Shit, Steve thought, they could get in _serious_ trouble if anyone ever found this roll of film. The thought almost made Steve laugh around his cock, and he wondered idly if just the negative of him and Bucky with lips pressed clumsily together would get him in more heat than the film of him already going around seedier circles. Probably would. 

'Steve, _Stevie_ ,' Bucky was saying, pointedly, and Steve hummed questioningly around his cock. 'Wanna eat you, Stevie, I really wanna, is that okay? Wanna lap you out.'

Steve positively whimpered around his erection, feeling it pulse against his lips, and pulled his lips off with a wet, slick sound. 'Jesus, Bucky,' he gasped out. 

'Can I?'

'I,' Steve stammered, his face flushed hot from both the position and the thought. Christ, he had never even _considered_ someone doing that to him. Or anyone, really. He had bathed just before heading out earlier, so it wasn't like he wasn't _clean_ , but still, the idea seemed... dirty. 'Why would you wanna do that, Buck? Why'd you even think of it?'

Bucky just laughed, low and filthy. 'Says the guy with his lips around his own cock.'

'Christ, I--'

'It'll feel so good, Steve, promise,' Bucky murmured, and Steve clenched his eyes shut. 

'You really wanna?'

Hot breaths against Steve's calf, Bucky nodded. 'You'd be doing me a favor,' he insisted. 

'Okay,' Steve said, shaking a little but with the effort of holding his position and from nervous anticipation. 'Okay, yeah, yes, okay.'

'Say okay one more time.'

'Okay.'

Bucky laughed. 'Alright, I just gotta--' Carefully, he shifted up, so that Steve's head was still in his lap, but he was now sitting on his knees rather than simply being sprawled out on the sofa. The position actually pushed Steve's head up closer to his cock, easing the strain slightly. Panting wetly against the head of his erection, Steve kept his eyes shut, still flushed with embarrassment at the thought of what Bucky was about to do. 

It took a moment for Bucky to get comfortable again, and Steve felt the camera drop to the cushions again, but then, all of a sudden, he felt Bucky's hands come out to hold his ass cheeks apart, and then it was just the soft, wet feeling of the tip of Bucky's tongue pushing against his tight hole. 

Steve couldn't help but cry out, breathless and surprised, as Bucky's tongue swirled over the sensitive skin and pushed inside. _Goddamn_ , but that felt astoundingly good. The noises that were filling the apartment were obscene, the sound of slurping licks, and the smack of lips against skin as Bucky tried to get his tongue in deeper, basically suckling his lips around Steve's entrance. 

Although the desire was almost overpowering, Steve resisted the temptation to take his cock back into his mouth, certain that he would blow his load within seconds if he did. Instead he just kept up a gasping, keening running commentary, which mostly consisted of: 'Christ Bucky, oh, fuck, Christ, you-- you-- Bucky, _Buck_ , Buck, _Bucky!_ '

Bucky moaned as he lapped enthusiastically into Steve's hole, opening him up slowly. Steve could feel himself loosening, relaxing, so that the press of Bucky's tongue wasn't quite so tight, it was just soft and messy and wonderful. Turning his head on the side, Steve lifted up a shaking hand to slide over the shape of Bucky's cock through his trousers, his other hand coming up to hold his own hip, supporting him in place. 

'Mm, not, not yet--' Bucky interrupted when Steve went for his fly, pulling away only slightly from Steve's entrance. Even the feeling of his breaths ghosting over the tight ring of muscle made Steve twitch. 'Wanna...' He trailed off, but with one last long, deep, probing lick, Bucky pulled away, sitting up straight. He felt around for the camera again, hand trembling a little, and lifted it up again. 

Steve's eyes flew open, shocked and glassy, as he heard the shutter fire off again. 

'Did you just?' he stammered out, looking up at Bucky, who was grinning with saliva slick, red lips. 

'You look fucking incredible,' he replied. 'All eaten open. I'm just gonna...'

Reaching forward with the hand that wasn't holding the camera, Bucky pressed one finger up against Steve's loosened hole, pushing slowly inside. There was a slight burn to the intrusion, Steve only wet from saliva and nothing else, but it didn't matter. It felt amazing, and Bucky was careful; slow and gentle. He just worked his finger slowly inside, pushing and pressing until he finally hit a spot that made a full body tremor wrack through Steve's body and had him crying out. 

'Holy--!' Steve gasped, and Bucky just grinned widely. 

'Okay, just, I'm going to just rub right there,' he said, calmly explaining even as his voice set low and cracked with arousal. 'And you can take yourself in your mouth again, okay, Stevie?'

'Buck, I'm gonna come real quick,' Steve panted. 'I can't--'

'Shh, that's okay, that's good. Come whenever, I gotcha.'

Steve moaned, opening his lips and guiding his cock back onto his tongue, suckling himself down. The twin pleasures of sucking himself down and tasting his own precum on the back of his palate and Bucky's finger pressing against his prostate sending sparks of pleasure through his body had him reaching the edge almost immediately. He could feel his eyes watering from the overload of sensation, and when he gasped around his cock it came out almost like a sob. Above him, Bucky was whispering murmured encouragement. 

But what finally made him come, was the sound of the camera firing off one more time, capturing the moment as his seed started to pulse into the throat and Steve fell undone. 

The moment seemed to stretch on far longer than it should, Steve trembling and shaking and coming, Bucky panting and fingering him through it, pressing kisses wherever he could on his calves and ankles, still hitched up near his shoulders. 

Finally Steve let his softening cock out of his mouth and felt Bucky tenderly extract his finger, and Steve unfolded himself, relaxing on the couch, feet dangling over the armrest. His back ached a little, but he paid no heed to the feeling, instead just letting the sensations of lingering pleasure and looseness wash over him. 

He tried to say something, but it came out as a boneless, unintelligible sound, and Bucky just laughed. Steve looked up at him with heavy lidded eyes, and watched as he tried to roll the film on, pausing. Bucky flicked the camera open, peeking inside. 

'Hey, that was the last one on the roll,' he commented, smiling. 'That was lucky.'

Steve flung an arm over his blushing face, thinking about the pictures burnt into that roll of film. 'No, _lucky_ will be no one ever finding that,' he replied, but slowly rolled over so that he was facing Bucky, propped up between his kneeling thighs. He brought up one hand to trace over the swell of Bucky's hard on. 'Can I?'

Bucky looked torn. 'What time is it?' he asked. 'Think I can run to the shops first and grab another roll of film first? I don't wanna miss anything.'

Steve just laughed. 'You won't,' he said, unbuttoning the top button on Bucky's trousers. 'You're right here, I'm right here. What's there to miss?'


End file.
